


for better or worse (forever)

by nerdytardis



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytardis/pseuds/nerdytardis
Summary: The scars of Neibolt run deep.  While Mike's stand out starkly on his chest, Bill's like to crawl through his head at night.(a little au where Bill got caught in the deadlights instead of Richie. i promise it's more comfort than hurt)
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh (background), Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kasprack/Richie Tozier (Background)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69





	for better or worse (forever)

**Author's Note:**

> there will never be enough bill/mike content on this earth so i had to contribute something  
> also, just a heads up, this fic starts with a violent flashback/nightmare but things mellow out very quickly after that
> 
> sorry for any typos and thanks for reading!!

Light. 

Swirling and bending and splitting and pulsing its way through his veins, his bones, his breath. The light never ended and his body never ended; it was all stretching out before him and swallowing him up at the same time. All the folds of his brain were flattening out, spreading across the floor like spilled water—

Bill smacked into the ground.

It took him a second to remember where the hell he was, _who_ he even was, before it came all crashing back. 

Mike was leaning over him and talking. “—I think we did it! We just needed to believe! Bill, we really—”

Something wet and warm splattered across Bill’s face. A scream ripped through the cavern as Bill stared at the claw sticking out of Mike’s chest.

“Mikey?” Bill looked up to Mike’s face. They watched each other for the briefest of moments, both struck silent and dumb by the face of death.

Then Mike was being pulled away, up and out of Bill’s space and there were more screams, more shouts. Bill’s voice ripped its way out of his already battered throat, an instinctual noise that probably held some kind of words, a “no” or a “Mike” maybe, but he couldn’t make them out; the light was too loud.

The light. 

Floating all around him, his limbs dissolved into it, like blood in water. There were other people floating with him, and he knew them. He _knew_ them but their names weren’t there. Everything he had known about them had left when his brain flattened out. 

Nothing remained but the light. 

He couldn’t remember—

(Bill)

The light had taken—

Bill.

He wasn’t—

“ _Bill_.”

Bill opened his eyes. Mike was leaning over him.

As he stared at Mike, Bill realized that he was crying. His heart was racing and he was sweating from more than the LA heat. 

“Deep breaths.” Mike said. Staring into Bill’s eyes, Mike started to breath, in and out. Bill nodded, copying Mike until he felt a little more solid again.

Mike pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Better?”

“Thank you.” Bill reached out and grabbed Mike’s shirt, clenching the fabric between his fingers. Mike let himself be held close, hovering so that he filled Bill’s whole field of vision.

“The lights?” Mike’s voice was soft and well worn, like the shirt in Bill’s hands. 

Bill squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. A hand, no longer soft but still gentle, came to Bill’s cheek and wiped away the tears rolling down his face.

Mike pressed a kiss to the corner of Bill’s lips and then he was leaning back. Bill let go and opened his eyes, watching as Mike shucked his shirt off. 

Moonlight flashed off the scar as Mike twisted to the side and threw the shirt on the floor. 

Bill sat up and covered the scar with his palm, pressing it into the center of Mike’s chest. He closed his eyes again and concentrated on the steady rhythm of Mike’s heartbeat; the way Mike’s ribs moved when he breathed.

Mike’s fingers brushed across the back of his hand. Bill opened his eyes so he could watch Mike pull his hand off his chest. He brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to Bill’s smooth, unbroken palm. He folded Bill’s fingers into a fist so he could press a kiss to the silver band around his ring finger. 

The world found its axis again and Bill’s breathing evened out to its natural pace. Leaning in, Bill pressed a grateful kiss to Mike’s lips; then tucked his face into the crook of Mike’s neck. 

Arms came up and around until they were wrapped up in each other. 

“I—” Bill found that his voice was thick. He cleared his throat and started again. “It’s been so long.”

A cold shiver went up Bill’s spine at the memory of the first nightmare. Sleep had seemed impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d seen the lights and blood and—

“Someday you won’t have them at all.”

“I really doubt that.”

“We have seen the impossible before.”

Bill breathed out a warm huff. “That’s true.”

Mike pulled back enough that he could look at Bill properly. “Time is doing its work and making it harder to remember. Nothing lasts forever.”

Bill finally smiled, the familiar expression falling comfortably onto his features. “I can think of at least one thing that’s supposed to last forever.”

Grinning back, Mike leaned in and kissed him again. “I guess I did say ‘for better or worse.’”

“You did.”

They smiled into each other’s lips. Warmth pooled between them. 

“Can you hold me?” Bill asked, words as quiet as the room was dark. 

Mike smiled and pressed their foreheads together. “Of course.”

They laid down together, facing each other. Bill shuffled himself closer until he was tucked into Mike’s bare chest. Their legs tangled and Mike’s arms came around his back, surrounding him. 

“I love you.” Mike said into Bill’s greying hair. 

“I love you.” Bill said into Mike’s scarred chest.

All the reminders of the lives that stretched behind them were always at their loudest in the little hours of the night. 

Bill stared into the shadows of Mike, of their room. Now that he’d thought about it, he couldn’t seem to stop his mind from spinning into the future, into their ‘forever.’ 

It wouldn’t be that long now until Bill’s hair lost all of its original color. Mike’s laugh lines would get deeper and his calluses would soften. They’d both lose their hearing and their eyesight and some memories along the way too. Then they’d lose each other. 

Each sunrise and sunset brought it all that much closer. The sun might be a sweeter, softer light, one that kissed his skin instead of melting his brain, but it still took its own kind of toll. Sometimes it was hard to see the different between the two. 

Mike’s grip on him tightened. He always knew. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike said.

Bill curled himself into his husband. He knew Mike meant it. But—

“I’m still scared.” He felt so small when he said those words, even if he knew Mike understood exactly what he was talking about. 

They all felt the fear. 

The good outweighed the bad so much these days that they forgot about it most of the time. Their bodies had healed and they’d all crafted their own big, happy slices of life. 

And yet—

Ben said he could still sometimes feel the eyes of Derry watching him, judging him. Richie ranted about how fucked up it was that he sometimes got scared to kiss Eddie around other people. Bev quietly saved every penny she could, like the bank might come knocking any day. Eddie occasionally got anxious about taking too many Ibuprofen.

None of them could even really imagine what it was like for Mike. Bill could comprehend it, know it, but he would never be able to really fathom what it felt like to be anyone other than the rich white guy he was. 

Bill suddenly felt guilty about bringing it up. He went to apologize, but Mike started pressing words into Bill's hair again. 

At first he simply said, “Me too.” Bill thought that was it, but then Mike kept going, “Everyone is. It’s the cost of being alive.”

Bill felt the edges of the world growing fuzzy from the damp in his eyes. 

“The thing is—everyone feels like this.” Eddie had said once, when they’d all huddled onto a single couch after a collectively bad week, “Everyone is scared of something. We’re just extra fucked up because we were traumatized by a demon in middle school.”

“An alien actually.” Richie had said, earning him an affectionate eye roll from Eddie.

Bill had been able to feel the rumble of Mike’s laugher against his back. He’d been holding Bev’s hand and one of his feet had been trapped under Ben’s thigh. It had been hard to untangle them all at the end of the night. 

Bill loved when they got like that, like he and Mike were right now. It was a good reminder of how hard it was to pry them all apart. 

If 27 years of lost time and a host of supernatural terrors couldn’t separate his family, nothing could. Bill knew that the Losers would always hold each other in their hearts and that the man holding him right now wouldn’t let go for the world. 

Bill pushed his nose into the spot below Mike’s collar bone, and said, “‘Fear is the cost of being alive.’ That’s beautiful.”

“Are you going to steal it for your next book?”

“No. I’m going to keep it. Just for us.”

Mike started to lightly run his fingers up and down Bill’s back. Bill closed his eyes and let the sensation ripple over him. 

“I like that.” Mike said. 

“What?”

“Having words that are just for us.”

Bill hummed. “I could invent some.”

“What a nerd.”

Now Bill smiled one of his favorite kinds of smiles, the ones that catch you by surprise. “Says the librarian.”

Mike’s breath was warm on his skin. “Touché.”

They lapsed into a familiar quiet. Mike kept running his hand up and down Bill’s spine. The motion reminded him of the ocean. 

Adrift in their dark room, Bill imagined them floating through outer space. He could see the sun in the distance but it was far away. They had quite some time before it got here and Bill was going to keep trying to enjoy it as best as he could. All he could do was keep trying, but it was enough.

All of this was more than enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> they...are so soft.....i physically cannot handle how soft they are.... i love them...


End file.
